Washed Away Gem
by Neka-chan
Summary: Mr. Simmons doesn't reach Helga from the flood and she's swept away. R for language and sexual refrence.
1. Life Sucks with Bad Memories and Bad Dev...

Okay, this is my first fanfic ever so please be nice to me, but if you must flame me then you can. It's no weight off my wallet. Anyway, enjoy this monkey stuff I slapped together in about 7 hours. I don't own anything or anyone, so sue me and you WILL lose. *insert insane laughter here* I must have pork monkies now. *insert another insane laugh* 

Washed Away Gem

Chapter 1

Life sucks with bad memories and bad devotees

  
_ "Arnold!" Helga called as she was swept away by the water._   
_ "No!" I cried. Then I froze. As she floated away, she had looked into my eyes, tears in them. I saw something I had never seen in her eyes before. Fear and...love. It startled me. I heard her voice and saw her eyes over and over in my mind. I never hated my name as much as I did in that moment._

~*End of Flashback*~

I held my head in my hands, my eyes closed tightly. _Stop it, _I commanded myself silently. It's been eight years since that day. We're all seventeen now and in our last year of High school. Everyone except Phoebe and I have pushed that day from our minds. I try to push it away, but I always hear my name and those eyes haunt my mind. Phoebe still believes she's alive. I don't say anything, but in my head I yell about what a crock it is. Sure they never found her body, but it's been eight fucking years. Denial shouldn't take that long to wear off. Her claims that Helga is still be alive break the shards of my already shattered heart.   
"Arnold!" Gerald's voice pierced through my mind. He continued when I looked up at him. "C'mon, man, schools over. Let's get out of here."   
I nodded as I stood, packed my things, and followed Gerald out. Phoebe and Gerald got together a year after Helga disappeared. He was there for her for comfort and I guess they finally got together. He doesn't complain about her murmurs of how she wished Helga would come out of where ever she is hiding or her exclamations of seeing her somewhere. If he wasn't in love with her, I'd have killed her a long time ago.   
"Hey, man, you really need to stop thinking about it," Gerald said. He also tried to forget, and I think he has, but with Phoebe and I, he can't really. "It wasn't your fault."   
"Yeah, I know..." I replied automatically. We have this talk a lot so I already know not to put up a fight. The auto-reply usually shuts off the conversation and it did this time as well. We walked silently, or we might as well have since I didn't hear a word Gerald was saying, as we walked to my house.   
"I'm thinking I'll take Phoebe to that museum anyway. Just to get her off my back about it, you know? And hey, maybe it won't be so bad. I mean, how bad can this Van Gogh really be?"   
"Yeah. He's pretty good," I replied. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I heard enough to make me able to play along. I looked up at my door and then looked back at Gerald. "Well, I'm gonna head up," I said. "I'll call Lila and maybe we can double or something."   
"Yeah, that'd be cool. I'll tell Phoebe." We did our handshake and I headed up to my room as I thought, _Helga liked Van Gogh... _I turned on the lights of my room with my remote and my eyes instantly went to the shrine of me. A few days after Helga disappeared, her parents let Phoebe go into her room and take whatever she wanted. She took everything to save it for when she came back. Yeah, right. Helga's dead. Anyway, she took me along because she wanted me to save something for her or at least keep it. When I got there I found the shrine of me and boxes of dolls, poems, and pictures of me. I realized that she had been in love with me for years by noticing the earliest date was when she was in preschool. They were very good for a kid her age. They always seemed a few years ahead of her and each one impressed me more in more, but I was horribly upset when I discovered her love. She must've hurt a lot when she saw me pass by her without even a second thought.   
I looked away from the shrine, disgusted with myself once again. I decided to call Lila. She answered a little breathless and I heard another guy's voice in the background. "Hey, Lila," I said, as if I didn't notice anything.   
"Arnold!" she cried, but then regained her composure. "Hey, Arnold, what's going on?"   
"I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me, Gerald, and Phoebe to that Van Gogh museum." By the way, I'm dating Lila. I know she's been cheating on me for a while now, but I really don't care. She's the easiest way to forget Helga and I don't feel like looking for someone else. It'd be too much trouble. "Then maybe we could come by my place."   
"Sure, Arnold," she said, a little sigh of relief. "That sounds like ever so much fun. When are we going?"   
I rolled my eyes at the "ever so." She still acted like an innocent little virgin with me, but as long as she eventually got naked in my bed, I really don't care. "We'll go Saturday, okay?"   
"Sure thing, Arnold. I'm looking ever so forward to it. Anyway, I need to go. I love you."   
"Yeah, me too. Bye, Lila." I hung up before she was able to return the farewell. Helga always saw through Lila when no one else could. Lila approached me when I came back from my little depression hibernation and told me that she did like me, like me. I turned her down, but a couple years later I decided I needed to forget about Helga, or try my best to so I asked her if she would still go out with me and she agreed. Next thing I knew, I was fucking her trying to clear my mind of Helga.   
I shook my head. Everything always went to Helga. I hated it. I hated her for plaguing my like this. I sighed as I did the other thing that would allow me to forget Helga a little. My homework. I wish there was some way that I could really, truly forget Helga. 

~*END*~   
Like that? Well there's more. Go on, you know you want to. Hey look, more pork monkies. *crunching away* By the way, devotees is another way of saying lover, beau, etc. And if it isn't, well, now it is!! *insert more insane laughter* By the other way, pork monkies are my nick name for pork rinds. 


	2. The New Girl That Makes Easy Buddies and...

Lessee...I own NOTHING!!!! Not even this computer with whom I beat the monkies out of for freezing on me daily. *nibbles on pork monkies* 

Washed Away Gems

Chapter 2

The new girl that makes easy buddies and easier enemies

  
"Hey, you guys, guess what I saw registering in the office!" cried Sid as he ran towards Me, Gerald, and the other guys, Stinky following behind.   
"It was a vision of beauty," Stinky said in his usual country-boy voice. Over the years he's managed to drop it a little so his accent isn't so thick anymore, but it's still kind of there.   
"Yeah," Sid agreed. "She had the prettiest eyes I've ever seen and I wouldn't mind our nude bodies entwined with each other either."   
"That's more than we needed to know about your opinion, Romeo," Gerald said. "Did you see what grade she was in? The classes? Her name?"   
I couldn't help, but laugh. "Gerald, if Phoebe finds out you're curious about a new transfer babe won't she be a little ticked?"   
Gerald blushed and said, "Yeah, well, she doesn't have to know about my little slip. Speaking of which, there she is. I'll see you guys later." He ran off towards Phoebe as Sid continued to rant about the new angel he saw.   
When the bell finally rang for class to start I headed to my homeroom class like always. When we were all seated and I was finishing my math homework, I heard my teacher say, "Well, kids we have a new student joining us today. Introduce yourself, sweetie."   
"Well," her voice made me look up. I froze. She looked like Olga only prettier, more refined, and had an air of independence and her eyes were like crystal pools of blue that I could stare into for hours, "my name is Hel..." My heart stopped and my breath caught in my chest. "Helen Kincaid." My heart sank then. It wasn't her, but what the hell was I expecting? Geez, I need to stop hanging around Phoebe. Ms. Robbins asked her to tell us about her and I listened intently to her as she spoke.   
"Well, I'm seventeen and I was transferred here from Burley. I enjoy poetry and I write some of my own. I have a black belt in Ju Jitsu and I going to take Akido as soon as we get settled here. I play the guitar and I drive a pink Sebring Convertible. That's about it."   
"Very good, Miss Kincaid," Ms. Robbins said. "Why don't you take a seat now. We read or work on homework during this time so I hope you have a book."   
"Yes, ma'am, I do," Helen said as she made her way to a seat next to Rhonda. She pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice and began to read.   
"Ditch the karate crap and poetry and you may be the potential vice-president for my fashion club I was looking for," I heard Rhonda whisper to her.   
I looked over at Helen to see her look up at Rhonda with a smile and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I would enjoy a mediocre position such as that in place of my arts. Thank you though."   
Everyone gasped at her reply as she turned back to her book. "Mediocre!? Just who do you think you are? Just a stupid tomboy! You're probably a dyke anyway!"   
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but will you please be quiet. You're making me lose my place." She had replied cooled and collected and had no hint of annoyance or anger.   
"Do you know who I am!? I am Rhonda Wellington Lloyd! I'm to be treated with more respect than that!"   
"Respect?" she repeated, pondering the word with a thoughtful expression and tone. "No, I don't think I meant to show you any respect at all in my replies."   
Rhonda growled, not able to think of anything more to say and sat down in a huff. The others looked at Helen in admiration. I knew that Rhonda's days of ruling had just been shot down in a matter of minutes. I smiled as I turned around to finish my homework.   
When homeroom was over Ms. Robbins called Helen and I to her desk. I don't know where she was during the fight between Helen and Rhonda, but she was back and not about to talk about it.   
"Helen, this is Arnold," she said to her. "It seems you two have the same schedule and I was wondering if you, Arnold, would show Helen around."   
"Oh, no, I don't want to burden him," Helen protested.   
"No," I replied with a smile that I haven't used for a long time, "it's no burden. I'd be honored to show you around." She smiled her thanks and we excused ourselves to get to our lockers. Since hers was closer we stopped at it first.   
"Can I carry your books?" I asked.   
She laughed and replied, "You know they are very heavy, but I think I can handle it. Thank you though. It was sweet of you to offer." She looked over towards Phoebe, who looked away. I guess she felt Phoebe's stare. She had reacted the same way I had when she saw Helen. I remember seeing her face when Helen introduced herself.   
"Excuse me for a second, Arnold," Helen said to me as we stopped at my locker. She went towards Phoebe. Some words and smiles were exchanged, a handshake, a wave and, the next thing I knew, Helen was back.   
"What did you two do?" I asked, trying to sound like he was trying to make conversation.   
"I introduced myself. I said she looked like an interesting person and that I wanted to be friends with her. She was very soft-spoken and a little nervous, but I like her. She's cool, and she knew some stuff about Jane Austen."   
I smiled. "Yeah, she's one of the brightest here. I'm sure you two will be good friends."   
She smiled, a smile that could melt my heart and make me her slave. "I hope so. Anyway, let's go to class." I nodded and followed. 


	3. The Art of Dating and Breaking

I own as much as I did in the last two chapters. NOTHING!! 

Washed Away Gem

Chapter 3

The art of dating and breaking

By the way, I don't think I mentioned what Helen was like. She was an angel. She had shiny, golden hair that she wore in two braids linked together in the back of her head to form one braid. Her eyes were blue crystals, sparkling with an innocence I had never seen before and her skin was fair and soft looking. She dressed in fashion, like Rhonda, but she was hardly the same as Rhonda liked to gloat about her clothes, Helen preferred to just wear them and talk about more intelligent things. She was really tall, taller than Rhonda, who was also really tall, but probably half a head shorter than me. She and Phoebe liked to eat alone to talk about books and poetry and things like that. She sat at our table once, but she excused herself from sitting with us again. She basically told us that our conversations weren't very interesting, but she had said it somehow in the most polite and unoffending way. I remember she had said some things to alter the conversation to something she found interesting, but the guys twisted it and got back to something she wasn't interested in. Phoebe shortly left our table and sat with her. It was okay though. None of us took it personally. We kind of liked that we could talk more as guys instead of watching ourselves since Phoebe sat with us.   
Anyway, it's been days since I called Lila and when Friday rolled around, she called. "Arnold, I've been just ever so worried," she said. "You didn't call at all. You're not mad at me are you?"   
_No, Lila, I just found someone else to take my mind off of Helga, _I thought. By the way, Lila goes to a private school now. "No, Lila," I said. "I've just been busy."   
"Oh, well, are we still on for tomorrow?"   
"Tomorrow?" _What's happening tomorrow, _I thought.   
"Yes, the Van Gogh exhibit, remember?"   
_Oh, right._ "Um, actually, Lila, can I take a rain check? I'm not feeling up to going anymore." _At least not with you, _I added silently.   
"Oh...well, sure, Arnold. That's fine. Can I come by tonight though?"   
_ Why? You're boyfriend dump you for someone smarter? _"No, I'm really busy," I said. "Some other time, okay?"   
There was a long silence before she finally replied, "Sure, Arnold. Another time..."   
"Well, I'll call you later. Bye." Once again, I hung up without letting her say goodbye. I looked at the phone for a while before I picked it up and dialed a number I had memorized a couple days ago.   
"Hello?" the angel's voice answered.   
"Hi, Helen," I answered. "It's Arnold. Sorry to call so late, but I wanted to ask you something."   
"Where'd you get my number?" she asked.   
_ Boy, she doesn't beat around the bush, _I thought. "Um...I got it from the phone book a couple days ago."   
"A couple days ago?" I hit my head. Why can't I lie? Then she said, and I could swear I heard her smile, "That's sweet, Arnold. You have a crush on me, don't you?" She didn't sound at all haughty about it. She just sounded...like her.   
I blushed as I said, "Yeah...is that okay?"   
She laughed and said, "I was worried I would have to make the first move. I have a crush on you too, Arnold."   
I smiled. Not only did she like me back, she sounded more intelligent than Lila with her "like me, like me" thing. "Then since feelings are clear, would you mind if we go to the Van Gogh exhibit with Gerald and Phoebe."   
"I didn't know the Van Gogh exhibit was in town. I love his work. If it's okay with Gerald and Phoebe then I'd love to go."   
"Gerald said he thought it'd be fun. He's okay with it."   
"Okay, then I'll come. When are we going?"   
"We're going to meet them there at seven. Is that okay?"   
"Yeah, that's fine. I'm looking forward to it already."   
"Yeah, me too. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."   
"Yeah, sure. Well, night, Arnold."   
"Night, Helen." I hung up after I heard her phone click and disconnect. I smiled brightly. I had a date with Helen Kincaid. How lucky am I! 

After some serious begging, I was able to borrow one of Mr. Smith's cars instead of going in the Packard. It's old and shot and definitely not fit to take someone like Helen to something like the Van Gogh exhibit. He had a few cars and he lent me the key to his BMW Z8 convertible. I had answered a few questions about Helen and where we were going and lent me this beauty. I knew she'd like it and I guess he did too.   
She looked amazing when I picked her up, a floral dress with a black background and a pink shirt beneath it and black small-heeled shoes. I was surprised that she wore pink, but then again, something was always pink with her. She even ties this small pink bow around any hairstyle she has. This time she wore her pink bow around her neck as a choker and hung a small heart charm from it.   
"You look great, Helen," I said as I started the car.   
"You look good too," she replied with her heart-melting smile. I was wearing a black satin button down polo shirt, not tucked in of course, and black jeans with black boots. "Black suits you very well."   
"Like pink suits you," I said, as I began to drive, causing her to laugh.   
"I couldn't help it," she admitted. "I know it's not under casual formal, but I love the color."   
"It's okay. It really does look good on you."   
"Well, thank you."   
"By the way, did you finish that book of yours?"   
"Pride and Prejudice? Yes, yesterday. I've started on Great Expectations. It's also slow, but its way of writing keeps it interesting, but you have to respect Ms. Austen's way of writing. Pride and Prejudice was a lovely story and though it's quite wordy, I can't help reading it over and over."   
"How many times have you read it?"   
"Once a year. I've read it since I was 10, but it seemed familiar. I may have read it when I was younger." We talked about the book and other books we've read over the years. We were talking about Alice in Wonderland by the time we arrived.   
"Hey, you guys," Gerald called to us as we approached. "You two look great together! Much better than Lila."   
"Who's Lila?" Helen asked.   
"This witch Arnold dated for a while," Gerald said as he led Phoebe and us inside.   
"Gerald, that's not a very nice thing to say about someone. Even if they didn't act very reasonable. They usually have a good reason behind their attitudes. Like Rhonda. She acts the way she does because she's insecure about her appearances and what people think of her."   
"That's not nice," Gerald said with a grin.   
"I was just stating a fact," Helen defended.   
"As was I."   
Helen smiled in defeat. "Touché," she replied. She then turned to me and we continued our conversation of books. Gerald and Phoebe left us alone after a while. We paused in our conversation to talk about the paintings we would stop at.   
"Arnold!" the most hideous shriek cried, interrupting the wonderful time I was having with Helen. I turned to see Lila standing there in a trademark green colored dress, which looked completely grotesque on her by the way.   
"Who the hell is she!" Lila cried angrily, pointing at Helen.   
"I'm Helen," Helen spoke. "Who are you?"   
"I'm Lila and Arnold's girlfriend, you hussy!"   
Helen seemed unaffected by the name. "You mean ex-girlfriend, right?" she said. "Or are you one of those obsessed stalker girls who can't take a hint as to when it's over?"   
Lila was furious. "I am Arnold's current girlfriend. I talked to him last night and he told me he didn't want to go to this exhibit!"   
Helen looked at me. Oh god, she wanted me to tell her if Lila was lying or not. Please lie, Arnold. Just once! Please! Say "no!" Instead I looked away, which confirmed the Lila had been telling the truth.   
"I'm sorry, Lila," I heard Helen say. "He didn't tell me you were still seeing each other. I'll leave."   
"No, Helen, please don't," I begged.   
"You're with me, Arnold!" Lila growled.   
"And you're cheating on me!" I yelled at her.   
She gasped, trying to look innocent. "Arnold! How can you say that?"   
"Because it's true. I hear men's voices in the background of our calls, you're always breathless when I talk to you, and you smell like some guy right now!"   
Helen seemed to have noticed the smell and she looked at Lila disapprovingly. Lila glared at the two of us and finally she yelled, "Yeah, well, you're calling me Helga while we fucked wasn't a picnic for me, Arnold! I needed a guy who called out my name while banging me."   
I smiled inwardly that she finally dropped the "I'm-a-virgin" act. "I never called you Helga!" I yelled when what she said finally got to me.   
"Yes, you did! All the time! Every time, not once did you call me by my name. I let it go the first time thinking you still needed time to adjust, but damn it, Arnold, you kept calling me Helga. Helga's dead, Arnold. You need to get over it!"   
"It's over, Lila. Now get out of my face," I hissed angrily. I knew she was dead, but hearing that from someone else hurt like hell.   
"My pleasure!" she yelled. She glared at Helen and said, "He's in love with a dead girl I hope you know. He'll call you Helga too." With that she stomped off, grabbing some blank-faced guy with her.   
I looked at Helen after a while. She was looking at the ground, looking somewhat confused. "Helen?" I said, trying to pull her attention.   
"Arnold, can you take me home," she said softly.   
"Yeah, sure..." I said quietly as I took her hand and led her out. 


	4. The Romance of Recollections and Realiza...

Nope, still nothing. Oooh, pork monkies. *crunchies* 

Washed Away Gem

Chapter 4

The romance of recollections and realizations

Helen didn't speak to me since that night and she didn't return my calls. When I tried talking to her at school she would always turn her back on me and walked away. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. It's been weeks since then and she should get over it. I took her by the wrist and, despite her protests, took her to a secluded spot behind the gym.   
"Helen, you have to talk to me," I said to her.   
"I don't have anything to say to you, Arnold," she said, looking me dead on, trying to stare me down.   
"Helen, please!" I said. "I really do care about you. I have ever since I saw you. Lila was just convenience, nothing else."   
"And that's what I'll be too, right?" she replied, coldly. "Just another distraction."   
"No, that's not it. You make me feel something else. When I'm with you, no one else comes to my mind."   
"Who is she?" Helen asked. "Helga. Who is she and what happened?"   
That was when I couldn't look her in the eye. "She was this girl who would bully me around. I thought it was because she hated me, but it turns out she was in love with me for six years. There was a flood." I closed my eyes, to push back the tears. I saw it as I spoke. 

~*Flashback*~

_ "Arnold!" Helga called as she was swept away by the water._   
_ "No!" I cried. I told the others to let out the rope as far as we could so Mr. Simmons could reach her, but the waves were to quick and she was swept out of our reach in seconds. When we reached the last of our rope and it was certain that Mr. Simmons couldn't reach her, I heard Gerald tell the others to pull Mr. Simmons back in._   
_ I was frozen at the sight of her frightened eyes, watching me as she floated away. When I heard Phoebe's sobs and cries for Helga to come back, I realized it. Helga was gone. I couldn't save her. Even when she wasn't in sight, I saw her. Her eyes. She wanted me to save her and I didn't._

~*End of Flashback*~

I was sitting on the sidewalk, crying, and Helen was sitting next to me, listening. "Her eyes plagued me since then. I hate my name, I hate her voice, I hate her eyes, I hate her for haunting me like she does...but I do love her. I know that I do, but with you I feel that I can love her and love you too. If you want me to forget her, I'll try. For you."   
Helen was silent for a while, taking it all in. Her silence disturbed me, but I waited patiently for her to speak. "No, you shouldn't forget her, Arnold. Just picture her as a spirit floating by your side. Watching over you." With that said, she stood and left me there. Alone, with myself and Helga's eyes. I couldn't do as Helen said. Helga wasn't some guardian angel. She was a plague. Plain and simple. I also couldn't picture her a spirit because part of believes...no, knows. Part of me knows she's alive. 

Life went on, like nothing had ever happened. Helen talked to me again, but she never spoke to me when I was alone. Only if Gerald was with me or Phoebe was with her. I fell in love with her more and more, but when I realized it, Helga crying out my name or her eyes would form into my head. She wouldn't leave me alone. There was another thing that wouldn't leave me alone. Helen didn't look anything like her parents. It came up between Gerald and I, but we didn't say much about it. It was a few months since my talk with Helen before I approached her about it.   
"What do you want to know about my parents?" she asked me. I had finally gotten her alone and she looked a little nervous, but she didn't it in body language.   
"Well, it occurred to me that you have no resemblance to them," I said, praying that if she was adopted, she knew about it, "and I was wondering if you were adopted."   
Helen smiled softly, with a hint of sadness in it. "Yes, Arnold. I am," was all she told me. I waited for her to go on, but she didn't.   
"Well, how long were you, I mean, when did they..." I didn't know how to phrase it. Luckily, she did it for me.   
"I was never in an orphanage," she said. "They found me when I was nine. I was half dead in a ditch that crossed through Burley." She must've noticed my startled look because she quickly added, "I know that it sounds similar Arnold, but I don't think I was swept away in a flood. I have these vague memories of these two people. I guess they were my parents. They hovered over me, the woman looking blankly and unfeeling at me, her eyes obvious that they were drunk, and the man had his back at me. The next thing I see is water enveloping me. The woman may have thrown me in, but the man didn't seem to care or notice. Anyway, I think I was abandoned, not swept away."   
I looked at her with sadness. I didn't know which was worse. To not have parents, but dream that they loved you or to not have parents, but knew they didn't want you in the first place. She looked at me with that smile that pierced my heart with cupid's arrow, innocence glazing her crystal blue eyes.   
"It's okay, Arnold," she said. "My parents love me, even my biological ones didn't. It doesn't matter to me as long as I have my current parents. Being cared by foster parents is usually a good thing. It means you are a wanted child."   
I smiled at the thought. She was an optimist, like I used to be. Before Helga drifted away. She was right anyway. If I wasn't wanted, my grandparents could've put me into a foster home and I knew my parents had a good reason to leave me behind. "That's a good thought for people like us..." I murmured to her.   
"Yeah...I've always liked..." She didn't finish. My lips closed over hers into the sweetest kiss I ever tasted. It was familiar though. With the confident way she moved her lips and tongue, I knew she found it familiar too. I pulled away instantly when I realized what the kiss reminded me of. The play and the Babewatch thing. Helga had left that same taste on my lips. This girl was Helga. I knew it. Something seemed to click from the start and now I knew. Helen Kincaid was Helga Pataki.   
I was speechless and deaf to all around me that I didn't hear Helen apologize and I couldn't move as I watched her get up and leave. _Move,_ I growled at my legs. _Catch her! It's Helga damn it! Move your ass!!!_ I finally listened and got up to catch her, but she was gone already. 


	5. The Trick to Convincing and Romancing

I STILL don't own anything and...*sniff* I don't have anymore pork monkies. ;_; 

Washed Away Gem

Chapter 5

The trick to convincing and romancing

I haven't seen Helen...er...Helga for weeks. She transferred out of our school and into another. Her parents always turned me away when I came asking for her, saying she was in the shower or she was doing homework or she was busy or she was out. Phoebe and I told the gang who Helen actually was and they were quick to believe it saying that she had Helga's air without actually having the personality. All I knew was that this transferring in and out of schools must be a hassle on her credits, but from what I heard she already had enough to graduate so I guess it's okay.   
I really wish I knew where she was. I need to talk to her. Tell her who she is. Try to bring her back. I don't know where she got the idea that her parents threw her into a river. She may have twisted her memory. From what I saw, Helga and her parents never got along and it's highly possible she just turned it to seem like she was thrown. I can see how. Helga's dad always paid more attention to Olga and his beeper empire than he did to Helga, so I can see his back turned to her and everyone knew Helga's mom was a drunk, hiding her mixes in smoothies, so of course the woman in Helga's memory was blank and drunk looking.   
Finally, I stopped going over to Helga's with a plan in mind. I'd seem like I gave up and when they least expect it, I'll wait for Helga to come out. I waited for a month before I went to Helga's to put my plan into action. I waited as her parents left for work. When Helga came down from her stoop to go to her car I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to my or rather Mr. Smith's Dodge Viper RT/10 convertible. I swear I think he steals these or something and puts on different license plates, but part of the deal was to not ask questions.   
Anyway, Helga put up quite a fight, but we both matched each other in martial arts, but I was a little better since Grandma taught me most of everything except weaponry so I managed to get her into the car.   
"Arnold, what the hell are you doing?" she growled. It was the first time I had heard her sound like Helga since I met her again for the first time (AN: I've always wanted to say that).   
"We're going to talk and that's that," I said firmly, but gently.   
"What's there to talk about?" she asked, annoyed, but talking in her normal tone.   
"Plenty," I said. "First off, you got the wrong idea about me."   
"I always get the wrong idea about you, Arnold," she said. "If you were anymore complicated I'd say you were a girl."   
I couldn't help, but laugh. "A girl huh? So what's that make you?"   
She looked at me blankly, then out the window. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.   
"The lake," I said.   
"What for?"   
"I just like to be there when I need to think and I thought it'd be nice to share it with someone."   
"Are we going to think or to talk?"   
"Both I guess. I have a lot to say and you have a lot to think about."   
"Okay, but if I get written up for ditching, I'm gonna kill you, football head," she mumbled.   
I nearly ran into another car passing us. "What did you call me?"   
"Nothing! Just pay attention to what you're doing or else you'll kill us both."   
We were silent the rest of the way. I parked the car at the edge of the lake. We sat in silence for a while before she finally said, "So what do you have to say?"   
"You're Helga," I blurted out. I hadn't meant to tell her like that, but it came out.   
She looked at me like I had grown another head and a horn popped out of my forehead. "You're twisted, Arnold. I told you the stories were different."   
"No, Helga, you're wrong. You're mind must've twisted the memory."   
"Don't call me Helga. My name is Helen!"   
"No, it's Helga. Helga G. Pataki!"   
"No it...what's the 'G' stand for?"   
"I don't know. You never told me."   
"Damn it, Arnold, I'm not Helga! You're crazy!"   
"No, I'm not. Just hear me out. If it makes you feel any better I'll call you Helen while I tell you this."   
"Fine, but talk fast. You're creeping me out."   
"Fair enough. You see, Helga's dad was always paid attention to her older sister, Olga, and his beeper emporium and never paid any attention for Helga, which would explain the man in your 'memory' having his back turned and coming off as uncaring." I waited for her to yell at me for comparing Helga's dad to the one in her memory, claiming they weren't the same, but I saw in her eyes a recognition of the names and attitude. With this, I was encouraged to continue, "Your mother seemed blank and drunk because Helga's mother, Miriam, was a drunk and something of a moron when she was so." Once again, she remained quiet, her eyes glimmering with confusion and recognition.   
"You must've mixed them with your memory of falling into the water, as that you don't really know if they _did _push you in."   
"You have no proof of any of this, Arnold," Helga finally said. "It could all be just a coincidence."   
I laid out some things from the shrine. She gasped softly and tried to hide it with a cough and a, "This car's really dusty."   
"It's brand new," I replied, sitting back. "Go ahead and take a look."   
She hesitated and headed for the potato doll of me, looking at it gingerly and with the same confused expression she's had since we started. She set it down after a long moment and picked up some poetry books and read some of their texts. She knew it was her handwriting, I could see it in her eyes, but she said nothing. She then set them back down and moved her hand to the last item. The locket of me with the inscription inside.   
"I found that along a river when I was out looking for you..." I murmured. She looked up at me, but then back down at it. She didn't open it. She recited the small inscription that was inside of it (AN: And I can't, for the life of me, remember what the inscription said) before she opened it and read the same poem, word of word. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked away. She didn't want me to see her cry.   
I moved the items aside before I reached out to put my arms around her and pulled her into me. She held me tight and cried into my chest. I don't know how long we had been there, but when she finally calmed down I tilted her chin up so I could see the eyes that I've hated and loved for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't save you before, Helga..." I murmured. She laughed softly and shook her head, forgiving me before allowing me to kiss her again.   
This was Helga. The taste, the warmth, the whispers, everything was pure Helga. We kissed in that car until we heard the bells of Seattle ringing, letting out the school kids. She rested her head on my shoulder as I drove us to my place, by her request, but I stopped quickly at a gas station.   
I don't know how many times we moved with each other, bodies entwined tightly together, but I know it was an awful lot. We were quiet, so we didn't disturb the other residence, but the soft moans that came from her so that only I could hear, echoed loudly in my head. And I had a new love for my name now. 


	6. Happy Ending for Four and Hell for Two

I end up with owning nothing. *sniffles at the beauty? At the fact she owns nothing? Sniffles for what?????* 

Washed Away Gem

Epilogue

Happy ending for four and hell for two

Helga stayed with the Kincaids, making everyone promise not to tell Big Bob or Miriam or Olga of her return for fear they may feel some unnecessary obligation that would make her life a living hell. She maintained her sweet nature she had as Helen, but still had her old habits of being bossy and aggressive. Heh, especially in bed, but I matched her very well, I think. She went on to Harvard with Phoebe to study to be a lawyer and poet while Phoebe studied to be a marine biologist, but she also took some business and law classes. 

I kept in touch with Helga and went to Stanford with Gerald to study writing, while Gerald took drama and voice and business classes. 

Helga and I married after she was made partner in a firm close to Gerald's radio station's building where my office was also held. Helga was made partner as previously stated, but soon went on to making her own firm in which Phoebe was her assistant in between her studies. 

Phoebe also married Gerald, and though we live on the opposite sides of town, we see each other quite a bit. Anyway, that's that. 

Oh, and Rhonda was kicked off her throne by Helga and later became a third-rate fashion magazine editor. 

And Lila...well, last I heard she became a farmer of a cattle ranch with her husband, Stinky. I wish him all the luck in the world with her. 

~*Fin*~ 

*still sniffling* I still don't have any pork monkies. ;_; 


End file.
